Blinded
by Mnemosyne's Elegy
Summary: Bakura has finally defeated the Pharaoh and gotten his revenge for the destruction of his people so many millennia ago. He has finally won. Or has he? An alternate take on the ending of Memory World. A What-If one shot.


**Note: This story is not cute or fluffy, and there is no happy ending. In fact, it is actually pretty depressing. You have been warned! There are a few things that might benefit from a little more explanation, but I'll do that down at the bottom after the story so that I don't ruin the ending. All I'm going to say here is that this is my take on what might have happened if Bakura had won in Memory World. It isn't exactly canon, but it is a sort of AU explanation. This qualifies as one of my What-If one shots.  
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**Warning: Contains character death. Nothing graphic, but it isn't pretty. I don't normally do a lot of character death, but it was definitely necessary for the story.**

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"I did it!" Bakura cackled maniacally, his eyes alight with vicious glee. "I _won_, Pharaoh!"

He leered at the broken man sprawled across the ground before him. One violet eye cracked open and looked up at him, but Atem said nothing, a grimace pulling at the corners of his mouth. The Thief King just grinned down at him and drank in the scene, soaking in the feeling of victory that had eluded him for so many millennia.

The Pharaoh just couldn't have left well enough alone, could he? No, he just _had_ to come to the Memory World in search of his long lost memories. Well, they had been long lost for a reason, and his meddling had given Bakura the chance he needed. That pitiful empty shell of a man couldn't even remember how he had defeated Bakura the first time, so what chance did he have of winning again?

He had put up a good fight to be sure, but he was no match for the king of thieves. Bakura had always been fated to win this time around. _He_ was the one who had a just cause. It was the Pharaoh's line who had destroyed his village and family, and it was the Pharaoh's line who would pay. And for good measure, Bakura had taken the liberty of destroying the Pharaoh's people as well. Blood for blood, death for death.

Perhaps he should just kill Atem now, but what was the fun in that? Bakura had waited five thousand years for this moment, and he wanted to enjoy it to the fullest.

"Well, Pharaoh? How does it feel knowing that your people are lying dead in the streets as we speak? That Egypt's sands are running red with their blood, just as they did so many millennia ago with that of my people?

"How does it feel knowing that your pathetic cheerleader friends could not get away in time? That their spirits are destroyed and their mortal shells lie empty five thousand years in the future?

"How does it feel knowing that you have finally lost? That I have finally achieved my revenge? That in a few short moments you will join your people and your friends in death?"

The Thief King smiled in satisfaction and watched as the Pharaoh's eye closed. His own eyes sparkled triumphantly as Atem turned his head away. As if that could stop Bakura from seeing the single crystalline tear sliding down his cheek. That one little drop of water made all of Bakura's suffering worth it. He himself had cried when his people had been slaughtered mercilessly. It was only fitting that Atem should do the same.

Yes, this was a most pleasurable victory. The only thing marring its perfection was the prickle of annoyance he felt when the other man didn't respond.

"Well?" He asked impatiently, nudging Atem's still body with his foot. "Any last words? Would you like to beg for your life? I think I would like that. My family begged for theirs, in the end."

Still, the Pharaoh refused to speak, his eyes steadfastly shut and his face hidden from view. Bakura shifted angrily. Even as he faced his death, would this man _still_ hang on to the last shreds of his pride?

The thief had pictured this moment many times, seeing it in vivid detail in his mind's eye over and over again. Each time had been different, but each and every scenario had included the Pharaoh on his knees, sobbing as he pled for his worthless life. Who was Atem to deny him this pleasure? Would he take even this from him?

"Beg," he snarled, kicking Atem harder this time. "I want to hear you beg!"

The other man finally stirred, painfully shifting so that he could look Bakura in the eye. His amethyst eyes snapped open and studied the Thief King piercingly, their earlier dullness gone. And the once mighty Pharaoh finally spoke.

"I hope it was worth it."

Bakura blinked down at the man in disbelief. Out of everything Atem could have chosen to say, he had said _that_? The Thief King's eyes narrowed as his lips curled up into a snarl.

"What do you think?" he hissed angrily. "I have defeated your gods, destroyed your army of soul creatures, killed your priests and priestesses, slaughtered your people, and murdered your friends. And now, _now_, I am going to kill _you_! The Egypt you knew, the Egypt that watched my people die, is dead. Everyone who had a hand in my family's destruction is gone, except for you. I left you for last so that you could appreciate the beauty of the situation."

His eyes began to sparkle darkly again as a smug smile crossed his face. Why was he so angry? Why bother being angry now, when he finally had his victory? No, he wasn't angry. He would enjoy this last opportunity to torture the man whose family had wronged him so grievously.

"I have achieved everything I set out to do," he purred, satisfaction evident in his voice. "Of _course_ it was worth it. It was worth every second of those millennia I spent waiting. I finally got my revenge."

He watched the Pharaoh expectantly, not bothering to hide his gloating expression.

"Choose your next words wisely, Pharaoh. They will be your last."

He licked his lips in expectation, his triumphant smirk a too-red slash across his face. Eyes glittering, he pulled out his dagger, stained crimson with Egypt's lifeblood. His feet seemed to shuffle forward a half-step of their own accord in anticipation of a longtime enemy's final breath.

Several moments of heavy silence blanketed the room before Atem finally heaved a sigh and spoke.

"An eye for an eye leaves the world blind," he said at last, his voice little more than a dry whisper. His eyes slid shut and his body relaxed in resigned defeat.

Bakura could do little more than stare at the dying man. Of all the things he could have said…

Why _that_?

Rage crept up his spine and his hand tightened around the dagger's hilt. Even Atem's last words only served to infuriate him further. Well, it was over for the Pharaoh, no matter what silly little words he said.

It was over, and Bakura had _won_.

_An eye for an eye…_

Yes, he had taken an eye for an eye, a people for a people. The Pharaoh's line had destroyed his people, so the Pharaoh's people must be destroyed in retaliation. It was as simple as that. Of course Atem would caution him against vengeance. It was a selfish sentiment, meant to make Bakura feel guilty for achieving his revenge. An eye for an eye was _fair_. It was _just_. This was the principle on which the world operated. The Pharaoh should know this.

_…__Leaves the world blind._

Well, the people of Egypt were blind now, the Thief King reflected, chuckling darkly. As well they should be. Their sightless eyes had looked like the dead eyes of his long gone people, and they had seen about as much.

Something twitched in the back of Bakura's mind.

They had looked the same. Their eyes had looked the same.

He shook his head, realizing for the first time how hazy his thinking was. He had his revenge; he should be happy. Why wasn't he happy? Why?

He stared at the blood pooling around Atem's body in horror. All of these millennia spent waiting, plotting, hating…All of that time, and he _still_ wasn't happy. He had defeated the Pharaoh and massacred his people, but his own family and friends were still dead, sacrificed thousands of years ago. His revenge hadn't brought them back. All he had done was visited the same suffering on a different people.

But that was right, wasn't it? That was fair. They deserved to die like his people had died. _But it did not bring them back_, a voice whispered faintly in the back of his mind. His whole life, his whole _death_, had been spent bringing pain to others. It was horrible, what had been done to Kul Elna, but did that justify turning around and doing the same unspeakable things to other people? _Innocent_ people?

_What has happened to me?_ He could remember a time when he had been able to laugh and play. A time where he had loved and cared about others. When had that changed? When the Pharaoh's men had destroyed Kul Elna?

No, it had begun there, but that hadn't been the turning point. The turning point had been when he had turned to the Dark One for help. He hadn't loved in millennia. Not since he had allowed Zorc to penetrate his mind.

_What have I done?_

He could feel it now, the Dark One's presence in the back of his head. He had single-handedly destroyed Egypt and her people, never once realizing that it had all been at the behest of the dark god. He had suspected, he had considered, but he had never realized. How could he have been so blind?

_/An eye for an eye leaves the world blind, hm?/_ The voice uncurled from the furthest recesses of his mind, stretching languidly as it wound through his head and body. When had the Dark One's taint become so strong? Had it been this way from the beginning and Bakura had just been too blinded by his own rage and thirst for vengeance to acknowledge it?

"No, we have destroyed Egypt. Is that not enough?" he asked aloud, his voice cracking in sudden fear. The cruelly amused chuckle emanating from the blackness of his subconscious told him that it was not. It never had been, had it?

Bakura had wanted revenge for the massacre at Kul Elna, but that was never Zorc's main goal, was it? No, he had had much loftier aspirations this whole time, only using the thief's mind and body as a tool to get his way. Bakura's eyes widened in dismay as he felt the Dark One's presence wind through his body and take control.

He fought, but it was little use. He could feel his limbs, his heartbeat, but he could move only with the dark god's permission. He was little more than an alien presence in his own body, looking at the world through a stranger's eyes.

How foolish he had been, to think that he had finally won. He had defeated the Pharaoh, but he hadn't won. He had lost disastrously. And with him, the world itself had lost this most dangerous of games.

He felt sickness settle in the pit of his stomach as his hand lifted of its own accord to bring the blood-soaked knife up to eye level. The blade twisted back and forth and shimmered dully in the half-light as his eyes examined it in sadistic delight.

_/Then let us blind the world./_

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**Note: This is less of a what-would-happen-if-Bakura-won fic, and more of an exploration of Bakura's character and Zorc's influence on him. I personally think that Bakura and Zorc are two different entities, where Bakura is angry and vengeful because of what happened to Kul Elna and Zorc is the more evil one who just wants to cause widespread destruction everywhere. In my story Bakura and Zorc destroyed all of Egypt, whereas if they had won in the anime/manga, they might have just settled for destroying the Pharaoh and the people around him. Maybe a little unrealistic, but I thought that it worked in the story. Also, I know that in canon literature Memory World was actually some sort of final Shadow Game, but I kind of ignored the game aspect here in favor of a more realistic scenario because I thought that it was more powerful that way.  
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**The inspiration for this story actually came from Mohandas Gandhi's famous quote "An eye for an eye only ends up making the world blind." Don't ask how such a dark story came from such a beautiful quote; I don't just kind of happened.  
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